


Don’t Pity Me

by PouncySilverkitten



Series: Don’t Leave Me [1]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: A single punch to the face, BDSM, Beau needs discipline, Comfort Sex, Crying, D/s, Explicit Consent, Explicit consent is sexy, F/F, Fingering, Masochism, Not in a sexy context, Praise Kink, Safewords, Spanking, Traffic Light System, Yasha is insecure, and Yasha has a belt, but Beau needs it, reassurance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-21
Updated: 2020-04-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:21:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,685
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23771494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PouncySilverkitten/pseuds/PouncySilverkitten
Summary: Beau is running herself ragged trying to make her feelings of inferiority go away. Yasha can’t bear to watch her hurting herself. But Beau’s anger gets the better of her, and earns her some Yasha discipline.
Relationships: Beauregard Lionett & Yasha, Beauregard Lionett/Yasha
Series: Don’t Leave Me [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1718104
Comments: 4
Kudos: 112





	Don’t Pity Me

“Fuck.” Beau grunted as her hands slipped off the branch. Landing softly on the balls of her feet, she wiped the sweat from her palms and looked up, jumping to grab the branch and pull herself into yet another pull-up.

It was their third day at the Xhorhaus, and Yasha didn’t think Beau’s shoulders had relaxed since then. If she wasn’t out running endless miles around the city, she was pouring punches into the heavy bag Essek had brought her, or doing so many sit-ups or burpees that no-one would be able to keep track.

There was another grunt as Beau slipped again, landing on one knee this time, her back rising and falling rapidly. Yasha watched for a minute, but as Beau stood again, looking up at the branch, the big barbarian stood, padding silently to her girlfriend.

“Beau, stop.”

The monk didn’t, instead hauling herself up yet again, her whole body shaking as she slowly dropped. As she went to pull herself up again, Yasha put her hands on Beau’s waist, her fingers wrapping around to feel the taught abs under her fingers, the spine under her thumbs.

“Get off, Yash.” Beau grunted, still pulling up against her girlfriend’s hands.

“You know I won’t, Beau. Let go of the branch.”

“Go fuck yourself.”

Rather than respond, Yasha tugged her girlfriend’s body back and down until her hands slipped off the branch once more. As Beau spun to face her, Yasha caught one hand, fingers running over the torn skin between the ridge of callouses at the top of Beau’s palm and the bottom of her fingers. “You’re hurting yourself.”

“That’s the idea, Yash.” Beau’s tone was stony, her eyes focused on a point somewhere above Yasha’s left braid.

“I can’t let you keep doing this.”

“I’m not going to let you stop me.”

Yasha looked at her girlfriend, taking in the sheen of sweat covering the muscles, the way her chest was still heaving, the myriad of grazes across her skin. One hand, pale against Beau’s nut-brown skin, took her chin and tilted it up, the other tracing the thin cut along her cheek.

“Please, Beau. Do it for me.” Yasha murmured, leaning in for a kiss. But Beau pulled away, spinning back around bending her knees ready to jump.

“I’m doing this for you.” She muttered.

“What do you mean?” Yasha reached out, her hand almost enveloping Beau’s shoulder.

“Look at you.” Beau spat, spinning around to face the taller Aasimar, knocking the hand from her shoulder. “I’m fighting with three people chosen by gods, a rogue who can put a crossbow bolt through someone’s eye from forty paces, a wizard who’s capable of blowing up entire rooms at a time, and a literal fallen angel. All I have is this.” She gestured to her arms. “This isn’t good enough. How the hell am I meant to protect my family when we’re fighting devils and monsters and the best I can do is hit someone?”

“Beau...”

“For the love of the gods, don’t say it like that. Like you pity me.” She spat the word like it was a slur.

“Beau, if you think that all you contribute to us is your muscles, I do pity yo-“

_Smack._

Yasha reeled back, wondering what had happened, then the stinging in her lower lip arrived and she tasted blood in her mouth.

“Yasha.“ In front of her, Beau looked stricken. “Yasha, I’m so sor-“

“Go to your room.” Yasha’s voice was quiet as she raised her head. Beau just stared at her. “Beauregard Lionett, go to your room right now.”

Beau looked down, nodding once, and left. Yasha watched her as she headed for the door, fingers tracing the split lip.

She was careful not to move until her temper was gone, the flare of white-hot fury that had been sparked by the punch carefully isolated and starved of fuel, until all that was left was concern for her girlfriend.

“Hey, Yasha, I was thinking that maybe we could get a fire pit going and I could learn to bake and oh my god what happened to your face?”

Yasha flinched as she heard Jester.

“It’s nothing, Jess.”

“No it’s not, that looks really sore. Would you like some maaaagic?” Jester wiggled her fingers, going up on tiptoe to brush her fingers along Yasha’s lip without being asked.

“Thank you.” Yasha smiled as her lip sealed over, a faint tingle and then nothing. “And I think a fire-pit is a great idea.”

“Okay, great!” Jester clapped her hands, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “I’ll send a message to Essek and see if he can get us some reaaally big blocks of stone or something.” She paused, and Yasha caught a flash of something in her eye. “You should go and sort things with Beau.”

“Sort things with Beau? What do you mean?” Yasha did her best to keep a straight face.

“Yasha.” Jester’s smile never wavered. “I’m not an idiot. Go and talk to her!”

Yasha shook her head and turned for the door, cursing herself for once again underestimating the girl who had quickly become her best friend. 

She played the same trick Molly had, although with different patter. But they both had this way of looking at you, seeing everything that was going on, and doing it while making sure you didn’t take them seriously. Maybe that was what had drawn her to the blue tiefling; maybe she was attracted to people who knew her better than she did herself.

Outside Beau’s door, Yasha stopped for a minute, searching inside herself for any flickering of that rage that might have found some oxygen and blossomed back into flame. But all there was was sorrow and worry, cold and dark and blue. So she grasped the handle and opened the door, not bothering to knock.

Beau was slumped in her chair, looking out the window over the low buildings that made up this suburb. Even before Caduceus had added the tree, their house had been imposingly tall, and it meant that all the bedrooms looked out over the flat roofs of the city.

“Ugh, finall-“ Beau said before Yasha interrupted her.

“Stop. Don’t talk unless I ask you a question.” Yasha let the order linger in the air a moment, letting it set the tone. “Do you understand?”

Beau stood, turning to face her, and swallowed. Yasha thought she could see her girlfriend swallowing her pride and something else, before nodding.

“Good. Bend over the end of your bed.” There was a quake in her voice that Yasha tried to suppress. She’d spanked her girlfriend before, of course; it hadn’t surprised her at all to learn that Beau was attracted to pain and people who’d give her it. And they’d talked about this, agreed that Beau’s full name meant that this was what was coming. But actually... disciplining her?

It was Yasha’s turn to swallow as Beau bent over the bed, reaching out and up to grasp the edges of the mattress. “What colour are you?” Yasha asked, grabbing the edges of Beau’s baggy trousers and pulling them down, exposing her ass. It could have been her imagination, but she thought Beau shivered a little as Yasha exposed more of her. 

“Fuck you.”

“That’s not a colour, Beau.” Yasha pulled her dark leather belt off, snapping it together, the sound echoing around the room.

“Um, green.” 

“This is a punishment. But even so, if you say orange I will become less intense, and if you say red, I will stop. Do you understand?”

Beau nodded.

The first impact was barely a second later, and the flat sound made Yasha jump a little. She took a moment to adjust her angle, making sure the belt wouldn’t wrap around Beau’s hip, then swung again.

Beau flinched at the impact, the pain from her hands eclipsed in an instant by the searing sting of the belt.

Quickly, Yasha fell into a rhythm, hitting at the same moderated intensity, the red lines that appeared along Beau’s skin spanning from the top of her thighs to the middle of her ass. After twenty two, Yasha lost count, distracted by the movement of Beau’s shoulders. Her arm kept in the rhythm as her eyes fixed on her girlfriend, and...

“Beau, are you crying?”

“Yeah.” Yasha had to strain to hear. “Don’t stop.”

“Are you sure?”

Beau lifted her head, and from where Yasha was standing the big barbarian could just see the tears tracking down the monk’s face.

“I need this.” Beau choked out, dropping her head again, and it was all Yasha could do not to pick her up and promise that everything was going to be all right.

Instead, she let herself get lost in the rhythm of the swings, painting her girlfriend’s ass with her misery. Every so often, she asked “what colour are you?” and every time, Beau replied green, so Yasha kept going.

And then it was as though a switch flipped, and suddenly the tears stopped forcing their way out of Beau in a fight, wracking her chest and convulsing her shoulders, and instead began flowing easily, and it was then that Yasha laid down her belt and scooped her girlfriend up instead.

For a long minute, all Beau could do was cry, her face buried in Yasha’s chest, and all Yasha could do was hold her, gently lying them both down on the bed and covering them with a blanket.

And then Beau raised her head, her face streaked with the tears that showed no signs of stopping.

“I’m sorry, Yasha. I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to hit you, I-“

“Hush, Beau.” Yasha stroked her girlfriend’s hair. “Hush, it’s okay. I still love you, it’s all right, just let it all out. You’re my good girl, and I love you so very much. ” And on, and on, an endless stream of words to match the gentle soothing rocking back and forth.

She had no idea how long she held Beau for; it might have been minutes or hours, but by the time Beau’s sobbing stopped, the city outside had quieted.

“Yasha?” The small voice came from her chest, and Yasha smiled, still stroking the length of Beau’s hair.

“Beau.”

“Are you mad at me?”

Yasha squeezed Beau’s waist and leaned down to plant a kiss on the top of her head. “Of course not. I wasn’t angry when I came in here and I’m not angry now. How are you feeling? Did I hit you too much? Do you want a healing potion?”

“No.” Beau looked up for the first time, a small smile on her face. “I want the marks. Thank you so much. Are you okay?”

“Of course.” Yasha frowned. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Beau cast her eyes down. “Well, I mean, I hit you, and then you... we talked about it, but I... I mean, if you feel-“

“Hush, Beau.” Yasha gently pulled her girlfriend up until they were face to face, the monk’s body dwarfed by her broad torso. “I’m glad that I helped you. And I’m fine.”

“Thank you.” Beau wriggled her arms free, threading them around Yasha’s neck and pulling her girlfriend in. Her lips pressed against Yasha’s and the last of the fear in Yasha’s chest unknotted as she kissed Beau back.

“I... um.” Beau looked down. “I understand if you don’t want to, after all of this, but...” She paused and Yasha smiled a little. Even after everything they’d been through together, her girlfriend still couldn’t bear to ask for anything. Instead, Yasha reached for the back of Beau’s sports bra, pulling it over her head.

Once she was free of it, Beau reached down to grab the hem of the long, loose linen shirt that Yasha had adopted as her casualwear, but Yasha ensnared both of her wrists in one big pale hand. Beau looked up, and Yasha’s face was right there, right by hers.

“Don’t you want me to-“

“Take off your trousers.” Yasha said firmly, and without even thinking Beau wriggled out of them, kicking her ankles free of the baggy blue cloth. By the time she looked back up, Yasha had somehow managed to pull her shirt off without Beau noticing, exposing the scars and ripples of muscle that Beau could spend hours getting lost in, letting her eyes and fingertips trace the swells and dips of her girlfriend’s body.

But for now all she wanted was Yasha’s presence, the heat of their skin together, the reassurance that came with the delicate touch of those big rough fingers. She closed her eyes, turning to press her back to Yasha’s stomach, her shoulder blades resting against big pale breasts.

“Yash...” she murmured, gently tugging the big hand that was resting on her abs. “Come on, touch me already.”

Yasha chuckled, her hand slowly dropping. “That wasn’t supposed to be fun. It was meant to be... cathartic, I suppose. To give you release.”

“That‘s not it.” Beau wriggled backwards, wishing she could be enveloped by Yasha’s touch.

“Then what?” Yasha’s fingers curled into Beau’s short, curly dark hair inches from her clit, making Beau’s breath hitch as Yasha’s lips pressed against her neck.

“You care enough to do that.” Even though it made the stinging worse, Beau pressed her butt back against the coarse cloth covering Yasha’s crotch. “That means so much.”

“Of course I do.” Yasha slipped a single finger between Beau’s lips, making her gasp. “I love you, Beau. And I want you to be the good girl I know you can be.”

At Yasha’s words, even more than her touch, Beau flushed, her clit throbbing. “You... uh...” she gasped as Yasha’s finger traced a circle, just barely avoiding her clit.

“Are you going to be a good girl for me now, Beau?” Yasha murmured in Beau’s ear, and Beau nodded.

“Yes... please, Yasha, let me be good for you-“ her words were cut off by Yasha’s finger running across her clit making her buck her hips and gasp.

“Uh-uh.” Yasha’s breath was warm on her neck. “Stay still for me, my love.”

Beau went to respond, but the grazing of Yasha’s leggings against her ass had sent another wave of pleasure radiating through her, and before she’d recovered Yasha’s finger was on her clit again. “Fuck...”

Yasha didn’t let up this time, swiping a second finger through Beau’s lips to moisten it before bringing both to bear on her clit. “Do you think you could get off if I stopped right now?” Yasha murmured. “If I just let you buck against my hips?”

“Mmm,” Beau huffed, “that’s mean.”

“Let’s find out.” Yasha murmured. “Hump my hand for me, sweetheart.”

Beau grunted but her hips were already rocking of their own volition, rubbing against Yash’s fingers.

“That’s a good girl.” Yasha murmured, and a whimper escaped Beau’s lips as her other arm snuck up, two fingers slipping into her mouth. “Get yourself off against my hand like the good girl you are, Beau. I love you so much, and I just want you to feel good and be a good girl for me. You’re such a good girl, my love. Such a good girl, so beautiful, so hot...”

Beau whimpered against Yasha’s fingers, her orgasm building and building. Somehow Yasha knew, and she began rubbing again, Beau’s moans filling the room.

“Cum for me, Beau.” Yasha murmured. “I know you need it, and I do too. Cum for me, my love, my good girl...”

And Beau did, gasping and thrashing and whimpering in Yasha’s unyielding arms. It was only as her orgasm faded that Yasha lifted her fingers to her own mouth, licking the taste of Beau from them.

“Such a good girl.” She murmured, and Beau melted, her mind hazy from endorphins. “You can rest now, my beautiful Beau. You’re so beautiful.”

And then she began to sing, her arms pulling Beau against her chest so the vibration from the deep Celestial were transmitted through her chest into Beau’s back, and they lulled Beau to sleep. 


End file.
